This Valley of Chains and Quicksand
by TartKiwiFruit
Summary: Claire's lived in Forget-Me-Not Valley her entire life, with only the fuzzy memories of trips she took with her father as a small child to satisfy her adventurer's spirit. After years of being held in her dinky town, Claire becomes suspicious of just who is preventing her from leaving, why, and what it has to do with her mother's death and her father's disappearance. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

"What the heck are you doing out here?" The young blond woman asked out loud, as she stomped from foot to foot, rubbing her arms. The snow beneath her feet compacted with a _crunch crunch crunch _as more fell on her head.

"Why, nothing Claire," she replied to herself. Even if she hadn't been alone, she wouldn't have been worried about people hearing her talking to herself. She'd lived in Forget-Me-Not Valley her entire life, as had her mother, and her mother's father, and her mother's father's father. The people here knew everything about her, and accepted her eccentricities as she accepted theirs. "I'm just standing outside in the middle of winter, in the middle of the night, waiting outside all alone so I can give expensive jewelry to a criminal. The usual, you know."

Claire shivered again, removing her hands from her warm armpits for just a moment to check her watch. It was digital, practically the only piece of modern(ish) technology in the entire valley, but the minutes numeral had blinked out years ago, and now Claire could only see the time in ten-minute increments. Her watch read 10:0-, as it had when she'd checked it what felt like fifteen minutes ago. As she looked at it, though, it changed to 10:1-.

Claire looked up as she stuffed her hand back into the warmth of her underarm, squinting to see farther through the peacefully falling snow to the wide, uphill road. There was little light, only that which came from inside Vesta's house, but it was magnified by the snow and visibility was high. She was more than able to watch for a certain figure coming down the road. Sure enough, there he came, walking at his usual brisk pace, right on time.

_Exactly _on time. Predictable to a T.

Claire sighed. She'd come to hate "predictable" in the four years since she'd been shackled with the task of saving the harvest sprites. She could barely remember what it had been like before that, when she had the freedom to do what she wanted. Had it been the same back then, that everyone had their daily and weekly routines, never varying from them unless she herself interrupted them? Claire had found that she herself had been falling into one, though it only lasted as long as it took her to water the plants and take care of her animals. But when she'd first met Skye three years ago robbing Romana's mansion, she thought she'd finally found something different. A rebel, an exotic. Someone who wouldn't just titter with amused acceptance every time she crushed a fence with her hammer or stuffed Red Grass down Mayor Thomas's throat. Someone who could thrill her, make her want to lock her doors at night. Someone spontaneous.

"Hey there, beautiful," said a husky voice. Skye walked a few feet from her down the road, at the point where it came out from between its sheltering cliffs. He was wearing an extravagant fur coat over his usual patterned shirt and tight pants. He raised his arm in what he thought was a cool wave as he drew closer to her.

"Hey there, sexy," she answered in kind, automatically turning her voice and personality to what she called Magical Girl Seductress Claire. She turned to walk with him as she attempted to subtly rifle through her rucksack. "Did you miss me, those long days? I sure missed you."

"Hehe," he chuckled in that signature sleazy laugh of his. He thought it was sexy. Muffy thought it was sexy. Claire had _never _thought it was sexy, but it didn't used to grate on her nerves as it did now. Worst was: he chuckled at almost _everything. _ "Of course I missed you babe, but you know I can't come when it's snowing out. Now that I'm here, though, we can—"

"So why are you here now?"

"I had to show you this new coat, of course! Hehe. I got it on sale from Van. Five finger discount, if you know what I mean. Also, it wasn't snowing this morning, so I'd already set my schedule."

Of course, the schedule. He couldn't veer from it, even if it meant getting his new fur coat wet with snow. Claire remembered when she'd first met Skye and he'd seemed so different and exciting, but he was no different. He came into the valley at 10:00 PM, passed The Line at 10:13, and proceeded to follow his time-specific plans to perfection, same as everyone else.

"Well that's sweet," she replied, pretending to believe that he'd only come to show her the coat. Skye grinned with another stupid "Hehe" and put his arm over her shoulders. She automatically moved her arm around his waist, but this night felt even more uncomfortable than most nights. Claire gradually realized she didn't want to be touching him.

"Now that I _am _here," he said, continuing on with what he'd been about to say before Claire interrupted him, "do you want to come and wrestle at the lake with me? Hehe. And by "wrestle," I mean—"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. You know I want to, baby, I really do, but Lillith gave birth this morning and I had a heck of a time trying to fight her calf for her milk, and I'm still sad from selling Hapsburg, but really it was her time to go. Plus, I spent a lot of stamina in the mine just an hour—"

"Yeah yeah," Skye exhaled. He wasn't interested in the exciting world of livestock drama. "I get it, you have a headache. But do you at least have the… um." He couldn't finish his sentence. Even Skye felt a little bit ashamed about extorting his girlfriend for jewelry and curry. Playing with her emotions, and all that.

"Of course I do, baby," Claire said, withdrawing the amethyst earrings from her bag. "I wouldn't just leave you with nothing." She wrapped his hand around them as she stood on tiptoes to give him a quick smooch on the cheek. She didn't see a smile flash onto his face and disappear just as quickly.

"It's snowing tomorrow, so I can't come—hehe, don't pout, you know I can't. But maybe we can play another night. Put on a show for the Harvest Goddess, hehe."

"Sure thing, baby," Claire said, and took a left to her ranch when he turned right to go to Goddess Pond. As she turned her back to him, Skye looked down at the earrings in his hand. It was worth 2000 Gold, at least. With one backward glance, the thief continued down the road. He'd gotten what he'd come for.

Claire ran, the faster to get to her heated house and soft bed. She didn't look back; she'd done what she came for.

It was a lie, the whole thing about the animals. Obviously. Skye could have figured that out easily. _If he'd bothered to care. He's just out to use me as much as I use him. _If he had just spoken with any of the gossip-mongers in the Valley, or checked in with Rick in Mineral Town, he would have known that Claire had sold all of her animals at the beginning of winter. The only lives still under her responsibility were the cat, the dog, and the horse. The only reason she hadn't sold them was because no one would buy.

Claire approached her house and slipped in quickly, so as to keep the dog in and the cold out. "Hi Rufus…" she cooed at the excited dog who barreled into her before the door was even shut. "Yes, you missed me, I missed you too… oh who's a shmoofer," she teased as she vigorously rubbed his head, ears, and neck, cooing in mommy-speak to him all the while. The dog whined happily, his tail wagging at mach speed while his eyes narrowed in ecstasy. "I know cutie, you missed me, I know."

Mewjesty, meanwhile, turned to glare at her inept handler. She did not miss her, no thank you. She was only going over to the woman to get some of the delightful scratches behind the ears; it was insufferable that that nincompoop of a dog get all the attention. Not that she needed it, of course.

After the animals were satisfied, (read: after Claire's back hurt too much to continue petting), Claire straightened up with a groan, throwing her scarf and coat haphazardly on the table. The first thing her mother had pounded into her when she'd been a tot had been cleanliness and organization: _You can't run a farm if you can't find your seeds or hoe, and you won't organize your supplies if you don't organize your home. Well, I suppose you _can _run it, you'd just do so very inefficiently and badly. _It had taken six years of Life After Mom to knock the darn habit out of her.

Yep, cleanliness was important to a farmer. Claire knew that she'd never had the mindset of a good one.

Claire flopped down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She didn't bother to change into pajamas, or even lift her leg fully onto the bed. She just stared at the ceiling, her eyes not wandering the plaster, but seeing other things far away. She saw herself miles and years from Forget-Me-Not Valley, farther than Mineral Town— a place that had never even heard of her Podunk little village, the valley that drew down her spirit like a ball-and-chain in quicksand. Claire closed her eyes and slept; and when she dreamed, she remembered.

Claire had not always been tied to Forget-Me-Not Valley. She'd been and born raised there, but when her father had still been with the family, he would occasionally take her traveling. Her father, _Goddess, I don't even remember my own father's name, _had not been a native of Forget-Me-Not Valley, and as a traveler had not been as averse as everyone else to seeing the world a bit. He wasn't like Gustafa, who claimed himself a traveler but never left the valley. He had wandered, he had seen the world.

"_I don't want her leaving this valley, Colin," _her mother had snarled, taking her rage out on the tomatoes she chopped._ "Valley folk were not meant to be anywhere but the Valley. Trust me, if she leaves, bad things will happen."_

_ "Like what, Jill?" _her father had replied with a weary sigh; he never got angry like his wife did, the most extreme he got was exasperated. Claire had been six years old at the time, and she remembered staring at the back of her father's blond head and feeling so much love for both her parents she thought her little body would burst. It upset her that they were fighting; she didn't care about leaving, she loved her home. She just wanted Mommy and Daddy to be happy again and tell her how beautiful her drawing was. "_Like the farm will fail? Like the barns will rot? Those things can be fixed. Your father raised this farm up from nothing, and so did you. Claire can do it too."_

_ "No, Colin!" _Jill shouted, startling her family. She slid the chopped tomatoes into a salad bowl and started on the meat, looking like she was about to cry. "_I mean like really bad things. People losing their homes and savings, people dying… People going insane. _Claire _going insane."_

Colin was silent for a moment, contemplative as he rested his face on his tented hands. The only sounds were those of Jill spicing the meat and sliding the pan into the oven. Eventually, Colin gathered his thoughts (or his courage) and asked: "_Why would you think that?"_

_ "Because it's always been that way, when anyone has tried to leave. Best case scenario: they come home a wreck, with only half the wit they had when they left. There's some sort of gee—" _Jill looked up, as if suddenly remembering who was in the room. Claire looked up from her crayons at the abrupt silence. "_We'll talk about this later. Claire, sweetie, can I see your pretty drawing?"_

Colin. That was his name. Claire got up with a creak and a groan, looking for her watch. She'd fallen asleep in her clothes and boots on, no surprise there, but for some reason her watch was not on her wrist. No matter. She knew what time it was; there hadn't been a single day in four years, since that fateful morning she awoke to see the Witch Princess staring down at her, that she hadn't woken up at either six or eight o'clock.

"Good morning Rufus, Mewjesty," she deadpanned with a noble nod at her animals. "And good morning, Claire. Good morning yourself, Claire." Rufus ran around in happy circles, excited to be a awake and a dog and about to be fed; Mewjesty just mewed from her position near her food bowl. _Stop talking to yourself and feed me, you moron._

"Yes, yes, your Mewjesty, I'm coming," Claire sighed, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and hoisting herself out of its springy goodness. She carefully measured out an allotment of food for each pet and poured it into its respective bowl. She was fine with being sloppy with her own stuff, but not with a life under her responsibility. Rufus eagerly jumped on it, eating half the contents of the bowl before suddenly stopping and scratching at the door. Mewjesty stared at her food bowl and began to daintily nibble the choicest pieces of kibble.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," Claire groused at her dog, and opened the door so he could zoom out. Mewjesty walked out at a more dignified pace. Claire followed them, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it to stare at the sky.

_I need to feed Naysayer, _she thought as she stared up at the winter sky, still dark in the early morning. Claire sighed, and didn't move. _I've gotta feed Naysayer, clear the stones and logs from the paddock area, buy seeds from Vesta since Karen's store is closed on Tuesdays…_ Claire tensed up, and her legs began tingling with the need to run. No more taking care of anything but herself, no more living her life according to some twisted Goddess's schedule, she needed to run. She needed to get out of the valley. Isn't that why she'd sold all her livestock, so she wouldn't be so tied down? Yes, she'd go for a run, maybe try The Line again; forget about crops and farming and preparing to be tied down in organic chains for another year.

A loud whinny broke through Claire's thoughts, snapping her out of her funk. Naysayer, right. As she pitched hay into his hayrack, a glimmer on the floor caught her eye. _What the…?_

"Naysayer!" she gasped as she picked it up. "How in the world did you get my watch?" Naysayer snorted at her, staring up at her entirely unabashedly. She had no doubt that if he'd been able, Naysayer would have snuck into her house just to cause trouble…but no. Even if the horse suddenly developed hands and tiptoeing feet, this wasn't her watch. It had an unobtrusive but shiny gold filament winding around the leather band, and it had a minutes display. The time read 5:45 AM.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N::Sorry for any confusion, but the watch is analogue.**

At the sight of the time displayed on the watch, Claire felt her knees go weak. _Five forty five AM. _She had never woken up this early, _never. _It couldn't be right.

_It must be set incorrectly, _she thought disappointedly. It had been a nice thrill to see something out of the ordinary, but it couldn't last. Reality always came crushing down and getting in the way. Claire stuffed the watch in her pocket and went outside, her responsibilities for the day done. She resumed her mopey pose outside the stables, staring at the sky.

No. No more moping. It was time to go for a run.

Claire pushed herself off the stable door and started out with a slow jog as a warm up. As she neared the beginning of the road that would lead to the center of town, she veered to the left and went toward the only other house on her property. She knocked on the door, and at the sound of a muffled 'come in,' entered.

"Morning, Tacky," she said with an outward brightness she didn't feel. Her neighbor Takakura sighed; her mother had called him that as well, when she was feeling especially angry. Claire continued the tradition for the giggles.

"I told you not to call me that," he grumbled. He was sitting at his table with a mug of coffee, two pieces of plain toast, and a book in front of him.

"Yeah, well," Claire shrugged, wandering around the small room and touching knickknacks and pictures on the wall. There was one of him with her grandfather, the two of them looking young and radiant, making muscles and enormous grins. There was another of him with his wife, who had died barren. There, another, of him with Colin and an enormously pregnant Jill. "It's your name."

Takakura harrumphed. "You know, your father was always very respectful, there was a nice young man. He was always polite, called me Mr. Takakura."

Claire froze as Takakura blathered on. That was the second unusual occurrence in one day…auspicious. Nobody in the Valley ever spoke about her father, as if because he wasn't a home grown Valley fellow he was taboo. Takakura could talk for hours if you just gave an encouraging grunt every so often (like, say, a snore,) but usually he only spoke about her mother or grandfather. Claire very carefully did not look at him.

"He came in like a tumbleweed, that man," Takakura said. _Like you would even know what a tumbleweed looks like. You've lived in Forget-me-Not your whole life. _"I gotta say we all thought he'd leave like one—come in for some rest and vittles, and then be gone. He probably thought he would too, until he saw your mother. She came into the Inner Inn where he was eating, back when Ruby had just taken over it… I remember his words exactly: 'She opened that door with a bang. She was sweaty and dirty and smelled like cows after a day of working with them, but I just thought she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.'"

Takakura smiled and shook his head as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips, but Claire could only stare in astonishment at the glass banana in front of her. She'd never heard that before. She'd always known her father adored his wife, that he might have given her more love than she returned, but she'd never heard that story of love-at-first-sight. She didn't know that if not for Jill, he would have passed through the valley without a backward glance.

Takakura put down his drink and continued. "Well, she was beautiful, you know. She was fit and healthy from working the farm, not like those city girls. Muscle tone, a tan, you can't get those from anything but good honest work.*"

_The choice: interrupt him to get him back on topic, at the risk of him clamming up, or let him go on?_

"If he loved her so much," Claire asked, "how could he just up and leave?" She didn't turn from the banana figurine she was fiddling with, a birthday gift from his wife, as she feigned nonchalance.

"Hmm?" Takakura asked, looking at her with narrowed eyes. "Oh, um, well…" _Damn. Oh well, he'd started babbling anyway. "_That reminds me, Claire, what brings you here anyway? You never visit my house in the mornings. Or at night. Really, I wish you'd come visit your old uncle every so often, it really—"

"I needed the time. I just realized that my watch isn't on time, and I'm still waiting on Van to fix my grandfather clock after Thomas broke it trying to sneak into my house last Christmas."

"Well that's odd," Takakura harrumphed as he hoisted himself up from the table. "It shouldn't waver; it was always accurate when your grandfather had it." He came to Claire as if to take the watch. "You didn't fiddle with it, did you?"

"No!" Claire said, clutching the pretty timepiece in her fist, paranoidly sure that if he saw it, saw its newness and its mysteriousness, he would take it away. If any villager saw it. "Um, Naysayer stepped on it and he—no, it's not broken, I can fix it myself!—he just stepped on a button and reset it."

"Hrmph," Takakura said, and sat back down again, looking to his own grandfather clock that ticked innocuously in the background. "Well alright then. This one says it's six fifty-two AM."

Claire felt the crushing weight of disappointment slam her heart down. She hadn't even realized that the hope she'd tried to suppress had lifted it so high. She'd known the watch was wrong, there was no way that…Claire stuffed it in the big center pocket of her overalls, smiling bitterly at the ground as she did so. Claire realized Takakura was talking at her.

"…the blue! Still, he was a good investment, eh?"

"…Right, yeah," she said absently, and opened the door to leave. "Later, Tacky."

Claire heard disgruntled mutters about disrespectful whippersnappers as she closed the door behind her. She ignored them.

It was nearly a forty minute run from the ranch to the end of the windmill farm off Vesta's property, and Claire used the time to set the watch. Unlike her other watch, this one had dials instead of buttons to set the time, and it needed to be wound up every so often. _How old fashioned, _she thought. But then, old fashioned by the world's standards would be brilliant innovation in the Valley.

The watch was nicer looking, too; where her other watch was just gears and glass and plain leather, this watch's face was set onto a golden metal the same color as the wire that wrapped around the band. There was an artful carving of a symbol Claire didn't recognize, a triangle with a smaller upside down triangle inside of it. _Pretty, _she thought, staring at it as she ran.

Claire didn't pass anyone on her run to Vesta's land; only Cody or Gustafa would have even considered getting up at this hour, and their schedules didn't bring them this way most days of the week. Before she knew it, Claire arrived at the road. The end of the road. She stared down the cliff sheltered path.

"I'll do it this time," she murmured. "Today will be the day Jackie slept in, and no one will stop me, and I'll go to Mineral Town and beyond." She took a tentative step forward, and then another, and then ran full tilt along the path. Almost there, she was at The Line, this time she would pass it…!

All around her, the world started shimmering with the telltale sparkles of a Harvest Sprite materializing. _Damn it, _Claire thought. _Narking bucket of jink eating slime! _She couldn't move—it was impossible to move while a Harvest Sprite was materializing. More choice words danced through her head as Jackie solidified in front of her.

"Claire, Claire, Claire," he sighed, shaking his head. "One would think you'd learn. You can't leave, you've still got work to do."

"No, I don't," Claire snarled back. "My livestock has been sold, my field is barren for the winter, and my pets have been fed, despite being more than able to take care of themselves. I have. No. Work."

Jackie smiled at her in such a way that she wanted to kick him in the face. Wearing steel-toed cement boots. Many, many times. It was a sort of pitying smirk, full of silent laughter at her predicament.

"You do," he said. "You've got white grass to collect and stones to chop and most importantly, man meat to woo." Smirkity smirk smirk.

Claire ignored the little gremlin and moved forward past him, toward her imagined freedom. He teleported instantly to block her once again.

"I will kick you."

"Oh yeah? Have you ever met the Harvest King? He likes his servants being abused even less than he likes being called baldy. And you remember what happened to the last person who called him baldy."

"Oh please, he had no idea what he was doing. Dumb baldy won't be playing with new magics for a long, looong time."

Jackie glared at her, rehearsing his retort. "He'll still be angry at you if you do anything to me, and whatever he does will be unpleasant. For you. I'll be watching from here with a bucket of popcorn."

Claire gasped and slapped her hands to her face in an exaggerated motion. "Oh no!" she squealed. "The Harvest King, who's power is pretty much limited to farming and giving babies to lesbian couples, might be _angry _with me if I kicked his little butt-licker imp in the face?" She pirouetted in a circle, hands still on her face, admiring the pleasant purple tinge to Jackie's cheeks and forehead. "Do you mean he might make me_ not able to grow crops?_" Claire dropped to the floor, one hand on her forehead and the other over her heart. "Do you mean to say that if I pummeled your impish little face in, _I might not be able to work anymore?"_

"No, I mean you would—"

"And oh gee, if I couldn't work anymore," here Claire stood up and brushed herself off, the picture of mature calm.

"You would—"

"That would mean," she continued, "you would have no excuse." The farmer and the sprite stared at each other for a few seconds as the temperature seemed to lower exponentially. Jackie glared up, the area around his head twinkling dangerously, while Claire seriously considered kicking him for real, as she always did.

"Turn around, Claire," Jackie said quietly, his calm words belying a dangerously nervous magical creature. "You don't want to go picking fights you can't win."

Claire turned around and began to stomp home, without kicking the little jackass in any painful parts. Her damn good conscious had gotten in the way, and she didn't go through past The Line.

As she always did.

***Complete and total bullcrap. Clearly Takakura has never heard of tanning salons or gyms. ;**

**A/N:: It's a such a dilemma, the choice between putting in all the stupid details versus getting on with the story. (-_-;;;) You can see which choice I made. But Claire's gonna get out of the valley next chapter, she will! ****Of course the chapter will probably be like eighty pages long but whatever.**** I've got so many plot bunnies running around my head and reproducing, they're eating my brain vegetable. I've got to get them out, and I will, you'll see!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:: I'm just letting this story go where it takes me. Hopefully I can answer some questions before making new ones. Hahahahaha, nope.**

"I need to get out of here."

"Yeah, I know."

"No, I seriously mean it. I am going to leave this place, I really will. Nothing but my rucksack and the clothes on my back."

"That's what you say every time, Claire," Flora sighed, turning away from her drink to look at her best friend. "You really should stop going to try Jackie, it always puts you in the worst moods."

Claire groaned and dropped her head on the cool wood grain of the bar.

"It's just, each time I go, I feel that it'll be different. My heart never seems to get the fact that I just…" Claire took a deep breath and clenched her fist. "…can't _leave._"

"Isn't that the definition of insanity?" Claire raised her head at the sound of a new voice, to look at Muffy who stood in front of them cleaning a cup with a wet cloth. "I heard once that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing multiple times and expecting different results."

"Private conversation, Muff," Flora growled.

"My bar, my business."

_I wonder if the Harvest King would actually do anything if I kicked the little bugger, _Claire mused as Flora and Muffy argued. _He's never actually shown himself. He might even have hair, for all I know. _

Wait.

The Harvest King and Goddess got their powers from granting wishes and prayers concerning farming, and receiving more prayers and offerings in return. If they had no farmers—i.e. energy source—they wouldn't be able to punish her for pounding on Jackie, or maybe even summon him in the first place.

Claire hadn't been doing any farm work for weeks.

So why was Jackie still appearing?

"…could even tell the difference between vodka and whiskey! And tell me, do the poor bananas scream when you rip off their peels for your hair?"

"Nah, they give them up themselves when I threaten to give them to Flora to mangle in her poor abused kitchenette—"

"Muffy, Flora," Claire interrupted the two arguing blonds. "Do you both get your fresh produce from Vesta's farm?"

"Um, yeah," Muffy answered, somewhat confused by the abrupt and off-topic question. "Everyone does except for you, though she only has whatever's in season. But her veggies are delicious—or at least until Flora gets her hands on them and tortures them in her lithograph, or whatever she uses to cook them in."

"Hey, at least my food is healthy, and doesn't kill my brain like the booze you know and love. But that's okay, you don't need brains to do what Muffy's best at."

"Damn it," Claire snarled, and smashed her fist onto the bar top. Muffy and Flora both looked at her, startled by her vicious outburst, but used to it nonetheless. She gulped down the dregs of her drink and slammed the glass down on the bar. "I'm going home," she announced. "See you tomorrow Flora, Muffy."

"I guess I'll leave too then," Flora said, standing up and tossing a 50 Gold piece on the bar top as a tip. "Thanks for the fun argument Muffy, I'll be back next week." Muffy grinned in response and snatched up the coin, pocketing it and responding with a similar farewell.

Flora and Claire walked leisurely up the road from the Blue Bar, shivering in the cold winter night air.

"You're so different when you're in the bar, Flora," Claire remarked with a teasing grin. Flora smiled placidly. "I mean, normally you're so quiet and distracted and peaceful, but man, you turn into a dragon whenever you're around Muffy. You just light up."

Flora shrugged, pulling her scarf tight around her face to cover her cold-reddened face*. "She's my friend, we get each other, you know? If I said the stuff I say to her to Celia or Lumina or Nami, well, Celia would probably go cry and think I hated her, Lumina would—oh gosh, I don't even know—probably have me arrested or something. Nami would hit me. "

"Well, it's not like she could actually hurt you, miss what would I do, if you said those things to me, hmm?"

Flora smiled. "You would probably hit me too. With your hammer."

Claire snorted and turned onto the path that led to her ranch while Flora continued on to the mines. She loved Flora and Muffy and Celia and all her girlfriends, and drinking with Marlin and Griffin or cloud gazing with Gustafa was great, but it just wasn't enough. Domesticity didn't suit her; Claire had the soul of an adventurer. So although she loved her friends, she didn't think she would ever be truly satisfied staying in one place her whole life.

"I'm eighteen years old," Claire said out loud. "I'm technically still a teenager: not stupid with hormones, but still full of them enough to make life interesting. I am nearly at the peak of my physical existence. Even if I change my mind one day and decide I do want to live in Forget-Me-Not Valley, I still need to go out and be young and set the world on fire _now._"

Claire put her arms behind her neck and stopped walking, looking out on her vast property. "Okay. So," she said. "Assuming my theory about the Harvest bozos' powers are correct, they're still powerful enough just from Vesta's work, and maybe Rick and Popuri in Mineral Town." She walked forward a few yards to sit in her shipping bin, breathing in deeply the crisp winter air. _But how far am I willing to go to escape?_ Claire thought._ Would I destroy Vesta's farm for my own goals? No. There must be limits to how far I'll go—no one else should have to suffer because of my wanderlust._

Claire tapped her fingers on the shipping bin that was serving as her seat. As long as Vesta's farm existed, so would Jackie. _Think, think, think! I can get through this! _She couldn't get past him, she knew, even if she was able to hurt him—which, despite no lack of motivation, she seemed not to be able to do. She couldn't break the…spell, geas, whatever it was, from the inside. So she needed someone who didn't live in the Valley to bust her out, and somehow avoid Jackie blocking her but not them. But there wasn't anyone who didn't pass him at some poi— oh.

Claire looked down at her shipping bin and smiled.

* * *

Mayor Thomas was in a pretty good mood. He'd peacefully separated a fight between Cliff and Grey, which was great PR. In addition, he'd won the legal skirmish with Popuri concerning taxing her sold chickens. All in all, it had been a good day for the Mayor of Mineral Town and Outlying Properties.

Or at least until it was time to go into the Valley and pick up Aldveg** Farm's shipment, as he had done every day, barring holidays and enormous storms, for four years.

It wasn't that he was scared of her, Thomas told himself as he walked onto the property. She was just a little…unstable. So he tried to follow his schedule and not upset her. Thomas looked at his watch. The time read 4:58; the Mayor took out his keys and opened the shipping bin.

"Hello Mayor," said a voice behind him. Thomas started violently and looked behind him, hand over chest in an ineffective attempt to calm his racing heart.

"Hello Claire, I didn't see you there," he said. She was between him and the exit to her property—she must have come in shortly after him, but by the normal route, not his Path.

"I didn't see you either, Mayor," she said, crossing her arms in the position that every male will at some point come to fear. "I was waiting at the entrance to the ranch."

"Ah, I must have come in before you came."

"Since three."

"Mm, uh, yes, well," Thomas gulped. "You must have missed me when I came, and I you." With that he turned back to the bin. Hopefully, he wished, she would leave it at that.

Claire narrowed her eyes and glared at the fat man's bottom as he bent over to look inside the shipping bin. Every person in this village was a stinking bad liar, except for Skye and Lumina, who were merely bad liars. Claire had been standing smack dab in the middle of the road. For someone as big as Mayor Thomas to escape her view, he would have had to be either invisible or walking through the stone cliffs.

Thomas sighed. The girl had filled the shipping bin with the heaviest material she could find—junk ore, useable ore, material stone, lumber, weeds, flowers, gemstones, the works. He didn't think it would even sell for that much, considering how very much stuff there was to sell.

"Claire," he said, "could you please help me with this?" He took his bag and set it on the ground. Similar to Claire's rucksack, it was enchanted in such a way that he could carry many more things than what would normally fit, according to the normal laws of physics. (They were more of guidelines, anyway.) It would also prevent him from feeling the weight of the load. The process of transferring the items, them being too big to just slide out of the usual slot, would definitely be heavy work.

"Certainly," Claire chirped, suddenly all smiles. If Thomas had had the energy to be suspicious, he would have been suspicious. But it had been a long day/five minutes and he was ready to leave, and wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. There followed an awkward several minutes (at least for Thomas) in which Thomas silently loaded the crap—erm, merchandise, into his bag. Finally around five thirty, they were done.

Thomas straightened up with a groan, one hand rubbing his aching back, the other setting the shipping bag over his shoulder. Claire stood in front of him patiently, watching the big wimp moan. He thought this was bad? Try bending over for hours in the blistering summer heat to pick itty bitty strawberries. Every three days.

"Well, thank you Claire," Mayor Thomas said with a wary nod at the farmer girl. He was surprised as, when he walked to leave the property, Claire walked with him.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

"No," Claire replied with a shrug. "I just figured it was polite to escort a guest off of my property." She smiled at him, and he sweated.

"Well thank you," he stammered. He anxiously turned to the end of the property, which was getting closer and closer. He couldn't let her touch him when he stepped on the Path, but he couldn't stop walking unless she stepped in front of him. Oh dear oh dear… His footsteps became slower and smaller. Claire saw this, and then looked at Thomas's sweating face.

_Hmm, _she thought, and stopped walking.

"Well goodbye then, Mayor," Claire said. "See you tomorrow."

_Oh thank goodness, _Thomas thought. "Yes, see you," he said, and walked on no longer looking like he was headed towards the gallows.

When he was four steps from the invisible line that marked the end of her property, Claire started running.

When he was one step away, Claire was right behind him. He stepped over the line.

Claire grabbed his wrist.

* * *

***Despite Flora usually only wearing a tank top and shorts… **

**** I couldn't find what the official name of the ranch was, so I just went with what I named it in my own game.**

**So, I know I was going to end the chapter with her finally leaving the Valley, but this is really just such a perfect ending, I couldn't bear to ruin it. Besides which, when I tried to continue, it came out reading like crap. :P So hurray, ending, yayz. Next chapter will start the crossover with the Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. Which I have never played. :**


	4. Chapter 4

**Zelda Crossover begins at the first page break.**

Imagine a picture. It is a simple picture, of a small town or countryside, perhaps, and on top of it is a piece of glass on which that same picture is colored. If you were to look straight down at the picture with the glass on top of it, it would just look like the image that was on both surfaces.

Look at the image. Good. Now turn the glass ninety degrees.

When Claire grabbed the mayor's wrist as he stepped onto his Path and out of reality as she knew it, it was as if some layer in her vision turned perpendicular to everything. Suddenly she saw everything differently, even though the original picture had not been changed—not even the glass layer had been changed, really, only her perception of it.

"Oh my gosh!" she shouted when she saw the world so differently. She could see magic all around her, and gateways and Paths and hidden portals that she would never have been able to stumble upon accidentally or even by following the exact footsteps of anyone else.

"Oh my gosh," Claire murmured again.

"Oh no, oh dear oh dear oh dear," she heard from in front of her, and remembered the person whom she had grabbed to gain such sudden and different clarity. Thomas had stopped walking and was gaping at her, his face blanched grey and his teeth grinding together. "No, Claire, you can't," he gasped, and grabbed her shoulder.

"Can't what?" Claire snorted, easily knocking his hand off her. "Can't leave? Can't know?" she shook her head angrily. "I don't care what you and everyone else in this goddess-damned valley have been keeping from me or even that—well no, I do care, but I'm not going to ask you about it." She looked around, at the grey faced mayor in front of her and all around the now sparkling valley. Maybe she was just paranoid, but her gut instinct was telling her that this big change would attract trouble that would prevent her from leaving. "I don't have time for your excuses or demands. I'm out of here."

Claire ran to The Line, ignoring Mayor Thomas's shouts even as they were joined by the voices of others. The frantic cries of her village friends made her slow down for an instant, but only that. They clearly knew something about this magic or barrier that Thomas was involved in, which meant that they were part of keeping her imprisoned in the Valley, too. If they thought she was betraying them by leaving, well, they'd been betraying her for four years.

"Where do you think you're going, Claire?" Jackie's obnoxious voice drawled as she approached The Line. "You still have work to do." He must have been lying in wait for her; she hadn't seen the sparkles as he materialized, nor been immobilized by them.

"Like hell I do," she muttered, still running, though slowing down to a trot. She could see now the swirling magic that surrounded Jackie like an egg. It seemed slightly… different from the rest of the ambient magic in the air, more focused. Whatever, she didn't care. She didn't have time to philosophize or study about magic that had kept her chained up in the Valley. It was probably the reason she'd never been able to kick him.

"I'm leaving, Jackie," she growled at the Sprite.

"Yuh-huh, just like every other day for the past two years," he snorted, but she saw that he was tense, and positioning himself for something.

Claire crossed The Line. She could see everything now. The reason she'd never been able to get through was because the whole threshold of the valley exit was absolutely saturated in magic, with only one small doorway. Even if she'd followed someone else's steps exactly, she wouldn't have been able to get through the door. As she went through it she could feel the magic telling her what she needed to do to get through: put your left foot down here, swivel your hips a little now, wiggle your right pinky finger…

And she was through.

Claire was so surprised she stopped moving, and the inertia nearly caused her to fall over. She let out a little gasp/laugh of astonishment and turned around to look at the prison just a foot behind her. Jackie was staring at her, face tense. Muffy was following her out of the Valley, and Claire saw how she cocked her head, and blinked twice, and ground her foot on the dirt for half a second. Two hours ago, she would have thought they were just normal Muffy-movements. She saw now that they were the instructions of the Line.

"Claire, please," Muffy said when she got through, and laughed. She had the strange, strained voice of a person absolutely desperate to get what they wanted but feigning nonchalance. "This is stupid. Let's go back and have a drink, on the house. We need to talk shop; I've been meaning to buy some milk from you."

Muffy looked terrified behind her cheerful façade. _Why do they all care so much? What does it matter if _I _leave?_

"If I go back," Claire began, and Muffy let out a whuff of air in relief. "Will you tell me everything?"

"Tell you what? What are you talking about?"

"Everything. Why I couldn't leave, how, who caused it. Why you all care if I do. Why touching Thomas as he was leaving my property made all…_this_ appear." _Why no one will ever talk about my father. Why my mother was so obsessed with her farm, to the point of never taking a day off. To the point of it making her so sick that she died._

Muffy twiddled with her hair nervously and looked back at Jackie, as if for reassurance. "Ah…ha ha ha, what? Made what appear? I don't see anything different from usual. Are you feeling okay, Clair? Come to the bar, and I'll make you some tea."

Even now, they remain silent.

Claire looked down, hurt. Why should she have expected any different, just because she'd broken through some magical wall? _Maybe because she's my friend? _She thought. _And friends are supposed to be the ones who stand by each other when everyone else turns against them. _Well, if Muffy wouldn't help Claire, Claire saw no reason to help Muffy. Especially when she didn't even see what the damn problem was.

"Nope!" Claire announced, lifting her head. "I'm not coming back, not now, maybe not ever. Later peeps, I'm blowing this popsicle stand!"* She whirled around and started walking down the wooded road.

"Wait, Claire! What are you—stop!"

_Not now, _Claire thought, shaking her head as if the physical motion would sort out her muddled emotions. _Maybe not ever._

And so she ran.

* * *

**Hello, new readers. If you've read all the chapters so far, you can skip this. If you're just here for the LoZ crossover-ness, I've got a synopsis here. **

**Essentially, one of the playable characters of Harvest Moon DS Cute, Clair, is frustrated with her farmer's life and wants out…except she can't. For some reason, she can never get out of Forget-Me-Not Valley. After four years of working for the Harvest Goddess, she manages to discover the magic that's been holding her in the valley and busts out, to everyone's dismay. She doesn't understand why everyone is so hell bent on keeping her there, but she's past caring. There are a lot of things Claire doesn't understand in the Valley—and a lot of them have to do with her father, who was not a valley native. Well, she's done with it all.**

The road to Mineral Town was not very different outside of the Valley as it was inside. It was a beaten down dirt path bordered with occasional trees, but mostly open fields. As she hiked uphill, Claire was able to gradually see views beneath her, such as long, shining roads that zig-zagged along the cliffsides.

About an hour after leaving Forget-Me-Not Valley, Claire began to see signs indicating that she was approaching Mineral Town. Mineral Town 10 Minutes Follow The Path the hand-painted wooden sign said.

"Hmph," Claire snorted, glaring at the signpost. Like hell she'd go to Mineral Town; everyone in it was knee deep in the conspiracy or whatever that'd been keeping her from leaving the Valley. For the Harvest King's sake, Thomas was the Mayor. If they weren't part of it, Claire would eat her scythe.

_That reminds me…_ Claire thought, sitting down at the base of the signpost. She'd left the Valley in a hurry, not packing her rucksack as she would have for any other escape attempt. She didn't know what she had in it, and whether or not it would be helpful on the road. With a regretful harrumph, Claire opened up the bag.

One mythic hammer, axe, scythe, watering can, fishing rod, and hoe. The magic sword was in there too.

An animal brush, animal call-bell, milker, and set of shears. _Oh yeah, I never did put those away after selling my livestock, did I? Neat and tidy farmer I am most certainly not._

A strength-determining bangle, teleportation stone, and touch-glove for the animals. The love-determining bangle was already on Claire's wrist.

She also had two Turbojolt XLs and Bodigizer XLs each, which would be handy, considering she probably wouldn't have access to a steady food source. There were some turnips, strawberries, and cucumbers that she'd forgotten to ship, a bag of carrot seeds, and three bottles of Mineral Town wine.

Well, it wasn't the worst bunch of items to have in your rucksack if you were running away, Claire decided, packing everything up and leaning against the signpost to look at the blue sky. The vegetables would sustain her for a short while, and she could sell the wine if she found any civilization past Mineral Town. With her tools, even if she couldn't find work, she'd be able to work the land and survive.

If, of course, she wasn't found and bodily and unwillingly dragged back to the Valley.

She should probably get going.

With a sigh, Claire dragged her lazy behind up from the comfortable dirt of the road, and dusted it clean while she considered her options. Follow the path, the sign said. Well thank you, Master of the Glaringly Obvious. I never would have realized it was necessary to continue, as I had been going for the last hour, on the only road in sight.

_Seriously, why does it tell you to go on the path? _Claire wondered, absently worrying at the leather of her rucksack. It was totally redundant, and therefore a waste of energy for whoever had made the sign. Whoever it was hadn't even put in commas—why would they exert themselves in so many extra words? Follow the path.

Don't follow the path.

Claire looked down the clear path, with its combed and pressed down dirt surface. By turning her head ninety degrees she could see the light forest that surrounded it. Claire knew two things for sure: if she followed the path she'd come to Mineral Town, and if she stepped off it to blindly stumble through the forest, she would not. Goddess only knew where she'd end up, but she knew exactly where she wouldn't.

Claire stepped off the path.

* * *

It started off pretty easy. The forest was relatively thin, without much undergrowth for Claire to trip or get snagged on. But as she got farther and farther from the path, the wood became wilder and thicker. It was as though the forest closer to the path had been groomed intentionally, so as to make for the most charming view. Or maybe people were more likely to get their wood from trees they didn't have to travel far to get, and Claire was making up conspiracy theories. Again.

Rather than allowing herself to be sidetracked onto a mental odyssey concerning the state of her sanity, Claire decided to focus on getting through the thick wood. _It's got to end at some point, right? _As long as she traveled in a straight line, she'd have to reach an edge at some point.

Yeah.

"Hmm, hm hmmm," Claire hummed to herself in boredom, nearly two hours after her there's-got-to-be-an-edge-somewhere- don't-give-up-hope-I-can-so-totally-do-this-uber-encouragement conversation with herself. She knew she was being shortsighted, giving up hope after only…it'd been what, four hours since she left Forget-Me-Not valley? The world was a big place, according to the books on her shelf, (not that she'd read them—she didn't have time for that. But the title of one of the books was _The World is a Big Place.) _Who knew how long she'd be walking? She might be in this effing forest for days, or weeks, or even—

Claire crashed through the barrier of vegetation, almost landing on the mythic scythe she'd been using to cut through it. With a shriek and a spine-twist that would have done an eschergirl proud, however, she managed to avoid cutting any necessary extremities off.

"What that heck?" she grumbled, looking back at the deceptive hedge. From the other side it had looked way thicker than it was, and Claire had swung her scythe at it with the force necessary to chop off the bough of a tree. The scant actual plant-life, combined with the laws of inertia, had sent her tumbling. Damn sneaky hedge.

The other side of the hedge revealed a small clearing, a few square feet of earth that weren't home to any large trees, rotting logs, or too unruly shrubs. The forest-floor vegetation was thin enough for her to quickly clear away with her scythe, and raking the dirt with her hoe provided an area of about six square feet of soft loam. It would have been great for planting.

The woods were getting dark, and a dusky gray was enveloping the trees, darkening the ground as well as everything above it. It was getting to the point where Claire couldn't even see the many and varied roots she could trip on, without straining her eyes.

_Well, this is as good a place as any, _she decided, and looked awkwardly at the prepared soil. Well, now what? Claire had never slept outside of her bed before, let alone on the ground outside of the village limits. What was she supposed to do, just lie down? Light a fire? She had no sleeping bag, tent, cooking supplies of any kind, or a fire starter. Without further ado, the runaway farmer girl plopped herself on the ground, sitting cross-leggedly, as if waiting for something.

"Well, I guess I'll just sleep on the ground," she muttered as she reached into her rucksack for dinner. Raw turnips, oh joy. They were better than starving, and at least she wasn't in the Valley. Claire ate her turnips and looked around the forest that surrounded her. Though she doubted that the foxes and other forest creatures would bother her, she removed her sword and axe from the rucksack and placed them on either side of her, just in case.

"Goodnight moon," she whispered. She rested on the hard soil alone, without the warmth of a cat on her chest or the sounds of a dog running around outside, waiting for sleep to take her.

***Huzzah, she's finally out! I actually came up with the idea for this story on the idea of Claire kicking Jackie in the face and shouting "Later losers, I'm blowing this lemonade stand!" Lemonade, popsicles, whatever. As long as it involved a stand of some sort. Anyway, this story evolved so differently from how I thought it would, I barely managed to get that in, let alone kicking Jackie in the face.  
**

**No, I still haven't brought in Link/ his village... but I will, next chapter. Probably. Maybe. Until I do, though, I won't list this story as a crossover.  
**


End file.
